


The Devil You Know

by KyloTrashForever



Series: Piping Hot Virgini-tea [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Come Eating, Crack Treated Seriously, Demon Deals, Demon Sex, Demons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Public Blow Jobs, Succubus Rey, Virgin Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-15 02:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever
Summary: “I was thinking of maiming you,” she murmurs, “for dragging me here.” She trails her sharpened nail just under his pectoral. “But perhaps I have a better idea.”He tries to wriggle away, but her thighs clench around his and trap him in place as she forces his back to the ground.“I’ll let you live,” she hums just before curling over him, a wet press of what he thinks is hertongueagainst his throat. “In return for your virtue.”“M-my virtue?”“Give me your name. Make a contract.”He’s more than breathless now. “My name?”“Just a name,” she murmurs. “A name is all I need… and I’ll give youeverything.”In which Ben finds out the hard way that he shouldn’t play with old magic.





	1. Untouched

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to get a little cracky.  
The strange language is (hopefully) Latin—but I went no further than a Google translator and what my wife remembers from high school so, just go with it. It’s for ambience only. 😂❤️
> 
> This is some strange mashup of my favorite hentai and a yaoi manga I enjoy—so hopefully that explains some of the crack. The manga I can recommend ([Konya mo Nemurenai](https://www.mangaupdates.com/series.html?id=66630)), but I don’t think I’m allowed to link hentai here? 😂❤️

* * *

Ben coughs through acrid plumes of blue smoke—waving his hands frantically to clear the air as the dense cloud threatens to fill up his entire bedroom. The old bit of parchment flutters to his floor, and the red markings he’s crudely copied on the wall of his room now burn and blacken as if lit on fire. 

He thinks back to Maz’s warning—to the look in her eye as she’d cautioned him not to trifle with this _ old magic, _ as she’d so ridiculously put it, even _ after _feeding him her crock-of-bull story. 

The entire thing is ridiculous. He’d assured himself as much, and yet…

Here he is. 

Another hapless victim of circumstance and curiosity. 

He told himself it was silly, as he drew the runes on his wall in pig’s blood that he hadn’t even _ known _ you could buy at a grocery store. Fancied himself as having a laugh, as he sat in front of it shirtless and sweating. Assured himself that it was _ ridiculous— _as he recited the strange words and crossed his heart in the same thick, crimson liquid. 

But then the sparks began. 

It was slow at first, like a match to a spruce, struggling to catch fire as it flicked out with heat and light that had taken him by surprise. But then the runes began to burn in earnest—scorching through the entire mark until there had been an _ actual _ ring of fire on his dorm room wall, thick puffs of _ blue _smoke pouring out.

Ben isn’t sure if he should be amazed, isn’t sure if he should be _ terrified—_but as the smoke begins to clear and the ring of fire begins to subside, and then as an actual _ body _begins to climb out of it—

Ben settles on both.

He thinks he should scream, when long, tumbling waves sprout from the circle to spill out against the wall—but his voice is lodged somewhere in his throat as he watches a torso follow after with wide eyes. She is all tanned limbs and taut skin and dark wings and—

_ Wings. _

Black, leathery little things that sprout from her back as she works her way out of the hole that hadn’t even _ been _ there before this. She falls to the faded carpet of his dorm room with a bit of a _ thud—_grumbling the entire way as she pulls herself up to dust off her loose linen pants. 

Ben stares at this odd creature who is, for lack of a better word—_ gorgeous. _As enticing as she is terrifying. He can see now that obsidian looking horns curl out of her hair, the same color as the metallic-looking bra of sorts that just barely covers her breasts and seems to be held up by willpower alone as he can’t spot any sort of straps. Her pants are the same dark color—but there is a sheen to them when she moves. A shimmer that’s hard to look away from. 

She rolls her shoulders and her neck, scowling a little and grumbling under her breath in some language he doesn’t recognize—not noticing yet that she isn’t alone in the room. 

Ben sits frozen on his ass, hands perched on the floor as he gapes up at her open-mouthed. Her eyes narrow when they finally find him on the floor, clicking her tongue as she directs what he thinks is a question at him. Not that he can understand it. 

“_Erat eo qui vocavit?” _

He blinks up at her. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“_Ego debeo manducare tua iecoris enim!” _

She takes a menacing step, and Ben scrambles backwards with a racing heart as she moves to stand over him, fingers extended and accentuating what he now sees are _ claws, _ and he thinks to himself that this is it. That this is the _ end— _that his ridiculous antics and his stupid loneliness will be the reason he winds up—

But then she goes still.

Her nostrils flare as she sniffs the air, head rolling eerily just before her tongue (holy _ shit _ it’s long) flicks out. She cocks her head as she stares down at him again, but her gaze is less angry now, more _ wild. _

“_Tu, virgo?” _

His mouth opens and closes aimlessly, cold dread in his belly as he struggles with what to do. She drops to her knees over his thighs, fingers thrusting into his hair and pulling _ hard _as she tilts back his head.

“_Respondete! Tu, virgo?! _

“I’m sorry,” he squeaks. “I just don’t—I don’t under—”

She gives a sigh, and it’s resigned, it’s almost _ bored— _but then her fingers untangle from his hair as she crosses her arms and leans back at his lap. 

“I’ll have you know I’m adding it to the list of your offenses—forcing me to use your beastly language.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You speak English?”

“When forced.” She makes a dramatic gagging sound. “Now tell me why you summoned me, human.”

“I didn’t—that is, I didn’t _ mean _to—”

She rolls her eyes. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve been to Earth but devil help me, do you all _ stammer _like this? Speak normally.”

Ben swallows around the lump in his throat. “I didn’t mean to… summon you.”

She turns her head to glance at the mark still smoldering on his wall, turning back with a raised eyebrow. “I would say it was fairly hard to do all _ that _ by accident.”

“Well—well, _ no. _I just meant that I—what I mean is, I—”

She heaves out an exasperated breath. “This isn’t getting me anywhere. Hold still.”

He panics a little when one pointed end of her finger reaches for his skull, and he can’t tell if he’s relieved or not when the pad of her finger comes to rest between his eyes. There’s a moment of complete stillness, and then a strange sensation of being broken open washes over him as memories are _ dragged _to the forefront of his mind. 

He sees the flash of the prior afternoon at Maz’s antique shop, sees the aged old parchment pass into his hands, recalls the little twinkle in the old woman’s eyes as she’d spun her tale of _ granted wishes— _and this seems to be enough for the terrifying but arousing creature that straddles his waist. 

She gives a snort as she leans back, crossing her arms as a little puff of smoke drifts from her nostrils and casting him a stern look. 

“_Wishes?” _

Ben can only gape up at her, struggling for the right answer. “She just said that—”

“Blasted humans. Always bothering us for _ wishes.” _

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

She rubs her temples. “_Stop talking.” _

His jaw snaps shut without any help from him, and he has a terrifying thought that it was something about the vibrato of her voice that forced it closed. 

Her taloned fingers continue to stroke slow circles on either side of her eyes. “I’m assuming you don’t have my banishment spell. Do you.” He shakes his head, and she groans. “So.” She blows out a breath, giving him a weary look. “Tell me what sort of extravagance you sought from me. Was it fortune? Fame? Perhaps bigger, ah”—she flicks her eyes down to the front of his sweats that conveniently rests just between her thighs—“bigger accommodations?”

He shakes his head frantically, trying to answer but unable to do so with the way his jaw is still welded shut. 

“You can speak,” she sighs.

He feels his mouth open immediately. “I didn’t wish for any of that. I promise. Nothing major. It’s not—” He swallows thickly, feeling a heat creeping through his face up to his ears. “It’s not important.”

“I really tire of this interview.” She clicks her tongue, reaching for his forehead again. “Perhaps I should—”

“_No.” _ She freezes at his outburst, cocking an eyebrow. “No,” he repeats a little quieter, willing to do anything to keep from going through _ that _again. “I just—” He casts his eyes to the floor. “I wished for a girlfriend,” he mumbles down into his lap. 

She is quiet, and when he looks up again he sees her lips have curled into a sly grin. “So you _ are _a virgin.”

“Wha—” His face heats further. “I’m not—how could you—you can’t _ possibly _know that I’m—”

She leans in, his tongue feeling too heavy as he falls silent, her nose hovering just by his throat as she inhales deeply. “I knew I smelled a virgin,” she purrs.

“How could you—”

“I can smell an Untouched from a thousand leagues, and you_, cerasus— _haven’t been touched a day in your life.” She runs a pointed nail down the center of his chest, and he shivers despite himself. “Have you.”

“I don’t—”

“I was thinking of maiming you,” she murmurs, “for dragging me here.” She trails her sharpened nail just under his pectoral. “But perhaps I have a better idea.”

He tries to wriggle away, but her thighs clench around his and trap him in place as she forces his back to the ground. 

“I’ll let you live,” she hums just before curling over him, a wet press of what he thinks is her _ tongue _against his throat. “In return for your virtue.”

“M-my virtue?”

“Give it to me, and I won’t rip you to shreds. A fair trade, don’t you think?”

Again he tries to escape her grasp, but for such a tiny thing, she is so _ strong. _“I don’t—”

“Don’t do that,” she coos, her small hand finding his wrist to pin it to the floor. “Without my banishment spell—you must make a contract. I can’t return otherwise. Not until it’s complete. Besides…” She gives another sharp inhale against his skin. “You’ll enjoy it. It’s what you wanted, right? Someone to fuck you?”

“No,” he argues breathlessly, eyes fluttering and voice lacking conviction because she’s _ moving _ now against him in a way that’s making it hard to _ want _to get away. “That’s not what I wanted,” he says a little more firmly. “I wanted a—”

“Companionship,” she snorts, a sharp scrape—is that _ teeth?— _ against his pulse point that makes him shudder. “So very human.” Her tongue trails up the length of his neck, finding his earlobe to suck it into her mouth. “I can make you forget it. I can do things to your cock you couldn’t even _ dream _of.”

She grinds down against his lap, and through the thin material of her shimmery pants he can feel the warmth that radiates there. “I—_ ah.” _

“Tell me your name, mortal.” Fingers dance over his abdomen, creeping down past his navel to tease just under the band of his sweatpants. “Give me your name. Make a contract.”

He’s more than breathless now. “My name?”

“Just a name,” she murmurs. “A name is all I need… and I’ll give you _ everything.” _

“My name is—” He gasps when one short talon lightly skirts over the length of his cock. “It’s—”

“_Yes.” _ He feels her lips against his jaw, painting a path until they rest warmly at the corner of his mouth. “_Say it.” _

“_Ben_,” he chokes. “My name is Ben.”

He can _ feel _ her smile just before she licks at his lower lip. “_Nunc te mea sunt.” _

The long press of her tongue slips inside his mouth, and he opens for her willingly because it tastes like _ honey _ in a way that almost has him believing the sweetness actually _ drips _ from her tongue. He can feel the thick nectar seep inside—feel it dripping into his very veins as his head fogs and his skin _ thrums _ with a need for more. More of what she offers. More of _ whatever _she can give him. 

She rolls her hips against his, _ hard—_and he shudders all over because it is _ so much more _ than anything he’s ever experienced and _ nothing _ could have prepared him for this. There is still a haziness to his mind that he can’t shake, spurred, he thinks, by the intoxicating taste of her—and he can’t help it, when his fingers curl around her waist. She hums with contentment when he does so, her tongue pressing harder, _ deeper—_the wet organ nearly snaking down his _ throat. _ She does everything, leaving no room for him to muck it up—and Ben can’t really think outside of her mouth and her hands consume him wholly. 

It’s heady, it’s _ outrageous— _and he could drown in this. He could slip into the feel of it and never climb back out, and when he opens his eyes, when his lashes flutter open to steal a peek of her, to imprint the sight of it in his mind—

_ Wings. _

The dark, leathery expanse expands to curl around her shoulders, and it’s enough, it’s _ just _ enough to bring him back to reality. Just enough to have him shoving her off his lap so that he can crawl backwards. 

_ “No.” _

She catches herself easily, leaning back on her haunches and cocking her head. “No?”

He shakes his head furiously. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“You’re a human male,” she scoffs. “This is what you all want.”

She moves to crawl closer, but he scrambles back another handful of paces until his back presses against his bed frame. “No. I didn’t ask for this.”

“And what exactly _ is _it that you want?”

“A girlfriend.” Even to _ him _it sounds silly now. “That’s what I wished for.” 

She narrows her eyes. “Explain the parameters of such a request.”

“You know.” He feels his ears heat, eyes averting to anywhere but her disdainful expression. “Someone who you spend time with, eat dinner with… Someone who listens, who makes you laugh… That sort of thing.”

“Are these the stipulations of your contract?”

“Stipulations?”

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “Are these the terms for the price of your virtue?”

“You could really do that?”

“It sounds easy enough to me.”

“Why are you being so agreeable? Couldn’t you just… take what you want?”

She huffs out a breath, scratching at her curls with her elongated nails as he swallows thickly, thinking about how much damage they might do were she of that frame of mind. “No one can just _ take whatever they want _.” She laughs with derision. “Only a fool would think so. Everything has a price, human.”

“Can you not call me human?” Her lack of _ trying to murder him _ has him a little less on edge. “I told you my name.”

“Ben.” She tests it out, stressing the word as if it sits strangely on her tongue. “I suppose it will do.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“I will agree to your terms.” He sighs in relief, in shock that it would be so easy. “But”—she crawls nearer, a wicked grin on her face that reveals sharpened incisors that make his mouth dry—“upon completion, I _ will _take your virtue.” She holds out a hand sweetly, even though he thinks she’s anything but. “Are we agreed?”

Ben thinks it’s a bad idea, _ knows _it is, really—but still he feels his hand drifting towards hers as if it has a mind of his own. Her small hand is burning hot in his grasp, only searing further in a way that makes his palm throbs with a flash of pain, and when he pulls it away quickly he finds a darkened sigil branded into his hand. He gapes down at it in shock, the skin around it raised and an angry red that stings with every brush of the cool air in his room.

He’s opening his mouth to protest, to seek _ answers, _but when he tilts his head up to do so—he finds he is now alone in his dorm room. His demon is nowhere to be found. 

Not that she’s _ his _demon—but still.

None of this is what he wanted, when he painted that sigil on the wall. The largest part of him hadn't even put enough thought into it to _ actually _ believe it would work—but none of that changes what just occurred in this room. None of it changes that every bit of what he just experienced is _ real. _That a creature as beautiful as she is terrifying had just struck an accord with him—the consequences of which he hasn't even allowed himself to imagine.

And she’s gone. For now. 

Ben spends a long time that night trying to decide if he’s disappointed or relieved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a (more than likely _loose_) translation of her Latin:
> 
> _Erat eo qui vocavit?_ \- Are you the one who summoned me?  
_Ego panem tuum, et reticulum iecoris, quia!_ \- I should eat your liver for this!  
_Tu, virgo?_ \- Are you a virgin?  
_cerasus_ \- cherry   
_Nunc te mea sunt._ \- Now you’re mine.


	2. Enthralled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry guys this is so cracky 😂
> 
> Gorgeous moodboard gifted to me by [@curiousniffin](https://twitter.com/curiousniffin) on Twitter!

* * *

Ben allows himself to think for a moment that everything is okay. As he lays against his pillows, eyes still shut with sleep, he tells himself that nothing is wrong. That it was all a bad dream. It works, for a handful of seconds—but then his palm stings. He brings his hand over his face, letting his eyes flutter open as he frowns at the mark there. 

“_Shit_.”

“It’s pretty, no?”

Ben nearly jumps out of his skin. He can feel it now—a warm body curled up beside his own, and for a moment he is afraid to look. Afraid to turn and take in the sight of the creature there. 

But it’s inevitable, he thinks. 

She looks just like he remembers, all horns and wings and barely-there dress—lips curled in a wry grin as she lays sprawled out beside him, resting her cheek on her fist as she watches him. 

“I thought you were gone,” he stammers, trying to scoot himself further against the wall. 

“I was here. Not that you could see me,” she says flippantly. “I needed a bit of time to formulate a strategy if I am to fulfill your request.”

“You watched me _ sleep?” _

“You humans are so inflated with your own self-importance.” She rolls her eyes. “No, I did not waste my evening _ watching you sleep_,” she snorts. “I watched your television. Interesting programs come on after you fall asleep.”

“I don’t want to know,” he groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “I have to go to class.”

“I will accompany you.”

“_No.” _

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t—because _ you _can’t—”

“Must you _ always _stammer?” 

“People will _ see _you.”

“No, they won’t,” she tells him matter-of-factly.

His eyebrows raise. “How can you be so sure?”

“_You _ didn’t,” she smirks.

Ben heaves a sigh as he sits up in bed, grateful for his t-shirt and his decided lack of pig’s blood body paint this time upon facing her. It makes it a little easier to find his bearings. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“You didn’t _ ask _for it,” she grouses. “Very rude of you.”

His mouth purses. “I’m sorry? I was… preoccupied.”

“_Humans,” _she grumbles. “You couldn’t possibly pronounce it in your tongue, anyway.”

“Then what should I call you?”

She considers a moment, and he tries not to stare at the onyx-like claw at her finger that taps at her chin. “You can call me Rey.”

“Rey?”

“It will do.”

He nods as he looks away from her, finding it hard to concentrate between his fear of her and his blatant attraction to her. _ She’s not human, _ he reminds himself. His eyes drift off to gaze out across his bedroom, and he is _ more _ than reminded of that fact. The mark still chars the wall across the room, and he thinks to himself if he _ actually _had people who came to visit—he would have a lot of explaining to do.

“So you’re just going to follow me around?”

She gives a bored shrug. “I have little else to pass my time. I have to find opportunities to meet your parameters.”

He rubs his hands over his face, making a sound of frustration and shaking his head. He thinks to himself that it will be a long day.

* * *

“You’re sure no one can see you?”

She picks at one claw, rolling her eyes. “Not unless I want them to.”

Ben looks out across the lecture hall, down the rows of students littered about as he fidgets nervously. He chose a seat in back row to be safe—but still he worries that any moment someone will glance up here and find this actual _ demon _sitting beside him. 

He leans to the side to try and whisper without being too obvious. “Can’t you just wait for me in my dorm?”

“No.” She gives him a confused look. “This is one of your stipulations.”

“How?”

“_Someone you spend time with,” _she echoes in what he thinks is supposed to be his voice. 

Ben gapes at her, forgetting for a moment that there are people in the room—the implications of her words slowly sinking in.

“Wait…” He shakes his head as if that will make it make sense. “_You’re _trying to fill them? As in… yourself?”

“What else would I do?”

“Find someone?”

“Oh.” She narrows her eyes. “Apologies. Am I not _ satisfactory?” _

His face heats, trying not to let his gaze dip down to the swell of her breasts that is barely covered by her ridiculous bra. “N-no,” he hisses. “It’s not that. It’s just that _ you _can’t be my—”

“Mr. Solo, is there a problem?”

Ben’s face snaps forward to find the professor’s stern gaze looking up at him from below—as well as most of the class. He sinks a little lower in his seat, shaking his head. “No,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

The professor shakes his head as he turns back to the whiteboard, and after several moments the students heads follow. 

_ Great, _ Ben thinks. _ Now I’m the weirdo who talks to himself. _

He feels the warm brush of her fingers against the back of his hand, and he tries not to jump at the contact—failing entirely when he hears her voice _ inside his head. _

_ That was embarrassing. _

His eyes go wide. **How can I hear you?**

_ Hello. _ She points to the horns that curl from her hair. _ Not human. _

**Why didn’t you do that in the first place? ** ** _Before _ ** **that happened?**

_ There are no social cues in Hell, Ben. _

He lets out a weary sigh. **Just be quiet until after class. We’ll figure something out then.**

She pulls her hand away, and she heeds him—for about twenty minutes. Then there is another tap at his hand.

**What?**

_ I’m hungry. _

**I’m sorry? No one can see you. Break into a vending machine or something.**

_ I can’t eat your toxic human food. _

**What do you eat?**

_ What all my kind eat. _

**That doesn’t help me.**

_ I need _ you _ to feed me. _

**I don’t understand. **

_ You’re very dense—even for human standards. _

He gives a mental eye roll. **Thanks. Always happy to listen to you—**

Ben finds himself having a hard time keeping his eyes forward now. He glances down at his lap where her fingers brush over his denim-clad cock, squeezing. 

_ Just a taste. _

**No. ** ** _No. _ ** **We had a deal. You can’t—**

_ Oh, hush. Your virtue is safe. This is only a necessity. _

She’s working his zipper down, and Ben struggles to remember why he’s fighting it. **People will—**

_ No one in this room will look at you. Not so long as I will it. _

**I don’t—**

Ben bites his lip so hard it brings blood, her hand dipping inside to fondle him as he claps a hand over his mouth to prevent some embarrassing sound from escaping him. To her credit, no one _ does _look back at him—even with the muffled grunt he just manages to staunch. 

_ Just hold still. This will only take a minute. _

**Rey. ** He doesn’t want to think about the fact that her thoughts are being transmitted through the way she’s touching his cock. ** _Rey_****. **

She’s halfway on the floor when she looks up at him, giving him a frustrated expression. _ You are the one who trapped me here. Do you want me to starve? _

He falters at that. Leave it to him to be left feeling guilt for an actual _ demon. _Still. He whips his head back and forth nervously. Can he really let her—?

Rey seems to get tired of him weighing his options—finding her way on her knees between his legs with his cock half-out. The tables in the lecture halls have a partition that hangs partially down from the front—so it isn’t as if someone could see _ everything _ if they _ were _ to look—but that isn’t the point, he thinks. 

No one has ever touched him like this. 

No one has ever _ thought _about touching him like this. 

Is he really going to let her—this _ creature— _ touch him like this on the floor of his classroom lecture hall with _ dozens _of people only a few feet away?

Rey makes the decision for him, wrapping her hand around his cock as she pulls it from his jeans. 

_ You’re very big. For a human. I like that. _

He holds his hand tighter against his mouth, terrified he will make a sound at any moment for the way she begins to stroke him lightly. 

**Rey, you can’t just—**

_ You’ll enjoy this too. _

Her warm, soft palm drags up the length of his cock—and it’s better than anything he’s ever felt. It’s enough to make him _ dizzy. _

_ Doesn’t it feel good? Being touched like this? _

He closes his eyes, his legs shaking a little from both the struggle to keep quiet and the _ enormity _of how good her touch feels. 

_ It’s okay for you to enjoy it, _ her voice in his head coos. _ I want you to. It tastes better when you do. _

He knows he shouldn’t be letting her do this—for a good number of reasons, but when her grip tightens a little, when something hot and wet slides along the head of him—none of those reasons stop his body from going rigid and his hips from tilting forward as if by instinct.

_ That’s it. Just relax. _

His eyes drift open, sliding across the room to meet nothing but the backs of heads as no one seems to be the wiser as to what’s happening behind them. 

_ No one will know what’s happening unless I want them to, _ she reminds him. _ You don’t have to be quiet, if you don’t want. _

That’s a risk he is _ definitely _not taking. 

**I shouldn’t be doing this. **

_ Don’t pretend you don’t want it, _ she hums in thought. _ Just think of it as a service. A debt you owe for dragging me here. _

He hardly sees how _ he _ is the one paying a debt. Not when her lips are closing over the head of him. Not when her hot tongue seems to _ wrap around _his length in a way that begs for him to lean back and look. 

But he can’t seem to do that. He knows then it will be _ real. _

He feels her fingers crawling over his thighs, dragging back down to let her nails scrape there, and his eyes roll back when she sucks him down to the base to drag back up slowly. There is a flash of warning in his mind about the teeth he knows are there—but she seems to mind them easily as she bobs down his length. 

_ You won’t last long. _

She doesn’t think it like a judgement, no, if he isn’t imaging it—she thinks it like _ praise. _As if she wants him to come as quickly as possible. 

Given that it’s the first time anyone has ever really touched him like this—he doesn’t think it will be a problem.

The professor drones on about something that sounds like white noise to Ben’s ears—but Rey’s tongue continues to curl around his cock, to _ envelope _him as he grows harder and harder against her tongue.

_ You taste good_, she hums happily. _ Much better than I expected. I want more. _

He has to swallow a shout when she hollows her cheeks, sucking him down so hard he feels the head of his cock against the soft walls of her _ throat _ as she burrows her face deeper against his pelvis. As she takes him further down than he thinks he’s meant to _ go_. 

**Rey—I can’t—** ** _fuck—_ ** **I can’t—**

_ Come. Give me it all. _

His entire body shakes as his cock pulses down her throat, his head falling to the desk to rest on his forearms as he feels himself empty in her mouth. As he feels her swallow down every drop, some pleasant euphoria seeping into his mind that he thinks belongs to _ her. _

She licks at his cockhead after, happily, _ hungrily—_cleaning him of every last drop before she pulls away to leave him boneless and at a loss. He feels her cheek rest against his thigh, and he finally slows himself to push back in his chair to look at her, finding her resting in his lap and wearing a sated expression, her cheeks flushed with color and her eyes glazed. 

_ I’m full now—and sleepy. Wake me when you’re done here. _

He glances at the clock, noticing at least another hour for this block to be over. He reaches to tuck himself back into his jeans, minding her face and still dealing with his own dazed state as to what just happened. Her eyes are closed when he’s done, and in her dozing she doesn’t look as menacing, doesn’t look so much like some creature that could snap his neck at any given moment. 

She looks sort of beautiful, really. 

Her eye eases open only a fraction, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes. _ Ben? _

**Y-yes?**

_ Giving me everything will feel… so much better than that. _

Her lips curl into a grin, and her eyes flutter closed as she nuzzles against him. Ben’s fingers curl into fists, forcing his gaze back out at the class that seems, to his eyes, back to normal. Heads turn lazily in boredom, the professor looks back at them periodically—no one has any idea as to what just occurred in the back row. 

Ben sneaks one last glimpse of her sleeping face between his legs, swallowing thickly. 

He thinks to himself that he might be in a lot more trouble than he thought.

* * *

“There has to be something.”

The little woman behind the counter frowns at him, adjusting her too-thick glasses and shaking her head. “I’ve been alive a long time,” Maz tells him. “Long enough to not fall for some silly trick.”

“It’s not a _ trick,” _he asserts. “The spell you sold me—”

“—nothing more than an old parchment with a ghost story.”

“—it _ worked—” _

“—wasn’t born yesterday—”

“—there _ has _to be some sort of banishment spell that goes with it—”

“_Enough.” _

Ben’s jaw snaps shut, fingers clenching the edge of the counter as Maz rubs her eyes from beneath her thick frames. He feels desperation creeping in, knowing soon he’ll have to _ feed _ her again—knowing that he is becoming less afraid of the thought and more _ needful _of it. A dangerous thing, he thinks, considering that she could easily tear him apart if she were feeling less… agreeable than she’s been in the last twenty-four hours.

“Maz, I’m not lying to you, there’s—”

“And even if you _ had _somehow summoned some sort of demon out of your dorm room wall—” She reaches for her carton of cigarettes, tapping it against the back of her hand as one slides out so that she can grab it between her fingers. “—I would tell you that I warned you about playing with this shit.”

“You _ hardly _warned me that a—”

“And if there _ was _a—what did you call her again?”

“A succubus,” he answers dryly. 

“Right,” she chuckles. “That. If there _ was _one—where is she?”

Ben’s lips purse, knowing that even if she _were _around (he’d somehow convinced her to wait outside)—it it wouldn’t matter because: “She won’t show herself to anyone but me.”

Max barks out a laugh, wiping at her eye before she lights up her cigarette. “I like you, Ben. You’re one of the only ones to keep coming to visit me at this old store—but you’re a shit liar.”

Ben sighs wearily, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Just… humor me. Was there any other part to that page you sold me? Maybe a book it came from?”

Maz gives a half-hearted shrug. “Honey, I don’t know half of the things I got in here. There’s no telling. Couldn’t even begin to tell you where to look.”

Ben’s eyes move around the front room that is crammed full of all _ sorts _of odd ends—not to mention the rows upon rows that exist in the back room. He knows it’s a lost cause. 

“Well,” he mumbles dejectedly. “Thanks anyway.”

He turns to go, not looking back when Maz calls after, “Good luck with your sex demon!”

He’s still grimacing when he makes it outside. 

She’s not readily seen when he exits the store, and for a moment he wonders if he might escape completely in her absence (run to another state, another country, perhaps another planet?), but it only takes a few steps to notice her in the alley beside the store—stroking a long-haired orange cat that seems a little worse for wear.

Ben is almost afraid to ask, but his mouth is opening before he can stop himself. “What are you doing?”

“I found him,” she says matter-of-factly. “I named him Armitage.”

“Armitage?” He wrinkles his nose. “What sort of a name is that?”

Rey coos in the cat’s face, rubbing her nose to his. “It was the name of this prissy little fop I made a contract with a few centuries ago. He tasted terrible. Not enough protein, that one. His face was just as squashed, though.”

Ben tries not to imagine any of the implications of what she just said. “I can’t keep a cat in my dorm.”

“Keep him?” She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t want to keep him.”

“Oh, well you named him, and—”

“We won’t keep him long. Just enough to cook him.”

Ben’s mouth hangs open. “_Cook _him?”

“Yes?” Rey looks at him as if _ he’s _ the one being ridiculous. “It was one of your stipulations. _ Someone to have dinner with. _There should be more than enough meat for you, once you skin him. Not that I can eat it—but you can feed me after.”

If he weren’t looking right at her—if he couldn’t see the dark expanse or her wings or the smooth curl of her horns, couldn’t still feel the wet press of her tongue on his cock even hours later—he might be able to convince himself that he was dreaming. Maybe that this was some sort of elaborate prank. 

“I am not”—he closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath—“eating a cat.”

“Don’t be such a dandy,” she chides, tucking the cat under her arm, reaching for its neck. “I just have to give it a little snap here, and it will be good to—”

“_No._” Ben crosses the short distance in a matter of seconds, scrambling to tear the cat out of her arms as she makes a disgruntled noise. “I am _ not _eating the cat.”

“Well, now I’ve already enthralled him. He’s just going to follow me if we don’t eat him.”

“And how long does that last?”

“Unclear.”

Ben shuts his eyes tight, counting to ten. He tries to remember what his life was like before _ this. _ He’s almost succeeded, almost conjured up a glimpse of that sweet normality that he now thinks he _ misses, _when she makes an impatient noise.

“Ben.”

He breathes deep through his nostrils, still clutching the cat as he opens his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’m getting hungry.”

Ben’s chest grows tight with anxiety.

Ben’s pants grow tight with something else.

He tucks the cat under his arm. “Let’s go back to the dorm.”

Rey practically skips the entire way back.


	3. Linked

“You look tired, Solo.”

Ben glances up from his table at the library, frowning. He wouldn’t call Poe Dameron his _ friend— _but they’ve spoken enough in passing that it doesn’t worry him too much, that he notices Ben’s woe. 

He barely gotten any sleep the night before, too unnerved by the warm, scantily clad body that slept beside him after having taken another _ meal _ from him. Not, admittedly, that he minded that part so much. Or rather, he _ did—_in a sense, in a _ big _sense—but he didn’t because—

_ Fuck_. 

He hardly knows what he feels anymore.

“I _ am _tired,” Ben sighs. “Rough couple of days.”

Poe slides into the chair across from the table, and Ben is beyond grateful that Rey has found amusement with the birds on the main lawn. He can only hope she doesn’t try to bring him a handful for _ dinner. _

“Midterms kicking your ass?”

Ben laughs softly. “Something like that.”

“You should blow off some steam. We’re having a party this weekend over at Kappa. You should come.”

Ben’s brow furrows. “You want me to come… to a party?”

“Yeah,” Poe laughs. “You gotta do more than just study all the time.”

“This weekend?”

Poe nods. “Yeah. Saturday. Anytime after dark.”

Ben feels a little at a loss. No one has ever asked him to do _ anything _ outside helping them with an assignment. There is a part of him that would like to say yes—if only to see what such a thing would be like, but there is much _ larger _ part that whispers that Poe is just being nice. That no one there would _ actually _want him there. 

It is this voice, as in every other aspect of his life, that wins out.

“I’d better not,” Ben answers quietly. “I have a lot to do this weekend.”

_ Like dealing with my very own she-demon. _

“That’s too bad,” Poe frowns. “It’ll be a good time. Maybe next time?”

“Sure,” Ben tells him, knowing it’s more than likely not true. “Next time.”

He moves to stand, having every intention of leaving, when Ben calls after him. “Hey, Poe?”

He turns. “Yeah?”

“Can you guys have pets in the frat house?”

Poe gives him a confused expression. “No?”

“Damn,” Ben mutters, drawing a strange look from Poe. “Sorry,” Ben corrects. “Trying to find a home for a cat.”

Poe grimaces. “Eh. I hate cats, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Ben sighs. “You and me both.”

Poe leaves him alone in the back of the library, and Ben lays his head against his text book, taking a deep breath of relief as he is afforded peace like this—something that is becoming a rare occurrence in his life.

He silently berates himself for turning down Poe’s offer—knowing deep down that he is his own worst enemy when it comes to forging friendships. He isn’t sure what it is about him that recoils at the idea of any type of social interaction, but it has only been made worse by the presence of his very own she-demon. Not, he thinks, that she has been particularly _ hard _to deal with since that first night. Some of their time together has even been… amusing. For lack of a better word. 

Or maybe he’s just losing it. 

“Who was that?”

He doesn’t look up, taking a deep breath against the table as he realizes he isn’t alone anymore. “Who was who?”

“The male you spoke with.”

“A friend,” Ben tells her. “Sort of.”

“Is he someone you want for a companion?”

Ben looks up then, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

She’s slung crossly in the chair beside him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “He made you laugh.”

“And?”

“It’s one of your stipulations. Do you want to mate with him?”

“What? _ No. _I—”

“Because you promised your virtue to me, you remember.”

“Yes. Unfortunately. I remember. I know that I—”

“And I won’t let some floppy-haired mortal take my prize. Not when I’ve worked so hard for—”

Ben isn’t sure if it’s lack of sleep, or if it’s the absurdity of the situation, or even perhaps if it’s the way her face is scrunched up with indignance as if fucking him is some sort of _ prize _ to be won, and she’s _ earned it— _whatever it is, Ben can’t help it. 

He laughs. 

He laughs _ loudly. _So loud that he’s silently offering up his thanks that he is alone back here, otherwise someone would think he’d lost his mind. He thinks perhaps he has, even if only a little. He wipes actual tears from his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands there after as he struggles to come down from his miniature manic episode. 

When he’s done, and finally able to open his eyes again, he finds Rey staring at him in a way that can only be described as _ hungrily. _

“You laughed,” she says quietly. 

He’s confused for a moment, but then he remembers. “Oh.” _ Someone who makes you laugh. _“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I guess I did.”

She chews a little on her bottom lip, and he feels warmth creeping up his neck as he recalls the _ contract _ he hadn’t _ really _meant to make. Not in the way she did, at least. 

“I could be someone who listens,” she says quietly. 

It’s odd, seeing her looking so… soft. Contemplative. It makes him think… odd things. 

“We’ll see,” he mutters. There is a thick tension between them that makes him uncomfortable, and he clears his throat to break it up a little, pushing away from the table to stand. “Come on,” he says without looking at her. “I need food.”

“I’m hungry, too,” she tells him lowly. 

He meets her eyes then, seeing that same dark hunger there, and it frightens him a little, how little it scares him then. 

It frightens him how much he sort of welcomes it.

* * *

“_Fuck_.” 

He closes his eyes, fingers gripping her temples as he pushes deeper past her lips. Seventy-two hours ago, this was something he couldn’t even consider a possibility—a warm, wet mouth sucking his cock as greedily as she is. Then again, there are _ a lot _ of things he’d never considered a possibility seventy-two hours ago.

He thinks this is the least strange among them—and that in itself is miraculous. 

His eyes roll back when he feels her tongue curling around him, pulling him _ deeper—_and it’s just enough to have him spilling down her throat as her hands crawl over his thighs to pull him closer. For every time they’ve done this (at _ least _ a dozen times now)—each one seems to make her just a bit needful for the _ next _time. 

Ben thinks he might know the feeling. 

She holds him in her mouth after—even when he’s spent and softening, content to just let her tongue unwind around him slowly as if to clean him of every last little morsel, drawing little tremors of aftershock from him that make it hard to come completely down. 

Her eyes seem to glow with some scarlet sheen when she looks up at him, hooded and glazed and _ content—_and he’s finding it harder and harder to separate this strange act from the way the _ after _makes him feel. The way she gets sleepy and content and wants to curl into him to seek his warmth. He thinks it’s only her nature, that it’s just a means to an end—but it’s hard to see reason when she clings to him like she does. 

And Ben… Ben is realizing he doesn’t even fight it anymore. 

* * *

“I’m bored.”

Ben flips a page of his textbook, not looking up from his desk to where Rey is perched on his bed, idly scratching behind the ears of what he guesses is now his secret-dorm-cat. “Sorry, not much to do on the weekends.”

“The male invited you to a gathering of some sort the other day.”

He does turn in his chair then. “Did you really listen to the entire conversation?”

She shrugs. “I had to be sure he wasn’t after your virtue.”

“Right.” Ben shakes his head as he turns back to his desk. “Of course.”

“Why did you turn him down?”

“No particular reason.”

“Humans have reasons for everything.”

“Why would you want to go to a party anyway?”

He hears her flounce backwards against his comforter, the cat scampering away to duck into his closet. Probably to scratch up another one of his shoes. “I’ve found myself enjoying watching you humans. You’re significantly more interesting than the last time I visited.”

“And when was that?”

“When were you lot still using the horse and buggy?”

“Nevermind.”

There’s a stretch of silence as he reads through a few more pages, and he can _ feel _her watching him, the weight of her stare even in his peripherals unnerving him. 

He takes a deep breath. “What?”

“I’m curious.”

“About?”

“Why you didn’t just give me your virtue.”

He raises an eyebrow, cutting his eyes across the room to her. “What do you mean?”

“Most people would. I’ve never had someone make me work so hard for it.”

Ben isn’t sure if he can quite agree to her assertion that she’s actually worked _ hard _for it—but he also can’t quite answer her question. Not in any way that makes sense.

He averts his eyes instead. “I’m just… not sure how I feel about it happening this way.”

“What way is that?”

“With… well, you know.”

“With a demon,” she says flatly. 

Ben can’t help but laugh at her deadpan. “Yes,” he guffaws. “I can definitively say that I never imagined it happening that way.”

“So, why not go out and get yourself a nice, sweet human girl? No one asked you to come knocking on my portal.”

His hands still from where he’d been turning his page, his jaw working in thought. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not? You’re big for a human. You taste nice. What more do they want?”

A burst of air huffs through his nostrils. “Quite a bit, apparently.”

“Still it seems… rather extreme to resort to the measures you did.”

“I didn’t think it would _ work,” _he grumbles.

“Some part of you must have,” she argues. “That spell is extensive. I’m not some common imp, you know.”

“No,” he chuckles. “No, you’re not.”

He doesn’t elaborate on her question, and he hears her make a frustrated sound. “Then why?”

He turns in his chair. “Why is it so important that you know?”

“I’m just curious.” He moves to turn back to his desk, shaking his head at her usual flippant behavior, when she gives a resigned sigh. “Okay. _ Okay.” _She crosses her arms. “Maybe I want to help.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his hair. “Really.”

“You’re agreeable.” She shrugs, not looking at him. “For a human.”

“Am I.”

“I suppose.”

He can’t help the little twitch of his lips, her blatant attempt at nonchalance actually a little endearing. He wonders if she’s ever wanted to help someone else before. He leans back in his seat, running his fingers through his hair. “I guess people do crazy things when they’re lonely.”

She cocks her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t get lonely?”

“I’m not sure. Describe it to me.”

“Just… being all alone all the time. My parents and I aren’t on the best terms, and I don’t exactly have any friends—never mind girls. It just… sometimes it’s too much.”

“And this upsets you.”

“Well… yeah. You don’t ever feel that way?”

“I’ve always been alone,” she tells him with a wrinkled brow, as if the concept has just occurred to her. “There is only the endless stream of the next hunt. The next soul to be won.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me.”

She looks down at her lap, brow still furrowed in thought. “Perhaps.”

“I guess…” He sighs. “I guess I didn’t think my first time would be to someone I’d never see again. I thought maybe… that it would be with someone who actually liked me.”

She’s staring at him openly now, jaw working subtly as her hands wring in her lap. It’s odd, seeing something like concern on her face—especially when it’s usually painted only with impassivity or outright boredom—but it isn’t… unpleasant, he thinks. Even if it does make his stomach feel funny. 

“I am very conflicted, Ben,” she says after a time.

“Why is that?”

“Because everything in my nature would have me point out that this conversation could adequately satisfy the last of your stipulations.”

His eyes widen, realizing that she’s absolutely right. He’s done well to keep from having too deep of a conversation with her these past few days—but in his musings it had completely slipped his mind. His mouth goes a little dry. 

“But?”

“But for the first time in… perhaps _ ever— _ I find myself not wanting to…take. I find myself wanting to give you what you _ actually _want.”

“Can you actually do that?”

Her lips purse. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“But you would try?”

“I would… try.”

It doesn’t really make sense—something so simple as her wanting to fulfill his inane request making him feel the way he does in this moment. Maybe it’s only the way that _ no one _has ever really given him much thought, maybe it's the way he’s spent more time with this… creature than he has another person in a very long time—he can’t be sure, but whatever it is, he thinks to himself that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Having a memory to look back on. Even one as strange as this.

“Rey,” he starts carefully. “We… _ did _ have a contract.”

He watches her mouth part just enough to show a glimpse of her sharpened incisors, eyes widening a fraction. “We did.”

“It would be… wrong of me to go back on that. When you worked so hard to meet my stipulations.”

“Ben.” Her voice seems lower, _ huskier— _and just the sound of it sends a little shiver down his spine. He sees her wings contract a bit, fingers extending anxiously as she leans forward almost imperceptibly. “Are you sure? I have never… been conflicted like this. This would be your only chance to escape this accord.”

“But what if”—his fingers clench at the arms of his desk chair—“I don’t want to.”

“Well,” she answers roughly, “I would tell you that I could… very much make it worthwhile.”

She’s off the bed now—in fact, she’s _ touching _him—and he can’t even remember her crossing the room. “I’ve… never done this,” he whispers hoarsely. “I probably”—his breath catches when he feels her palms flatten against his chest—“won’t be any good.”

“Oh, Ben,” she laughs softly, leaning in to run her nose along the length of his throat. “You’re forgetting the most important thing.”

“What, _ ah— _” The sharp points of her fingers dig into his shoulders just a little too tight. “What’s that?”

Her lips hover by his ear, and he’s struggling to remember why he’s been fighting it. She’s so… _ much. _ He feels the warmth of her breath against the shell of his ear, and a tremor passes through him as she whispers, “_I’m not human_.”

* * *

He doesn’t remember her undressing him. He thinks perhaps his brain simply skipped over the experience—too dazed that it was happening to soak up the details. 

This part, however, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget. 

She pushes him down to the bed, _ slowly, _ and he can only watch in wonder as she settles over his thighs where he lays only in his underwear now—and he swallows thickly as she reaches to run her fingers through her hair, the soft curls seeming to grow _ longer _before his very eyes. She smiles impishly, her eyes starting to glow with that warm, red hue, and his breath hitches as she reaches for the metallic covering over her breasts.

He feels his tongue go dry. Freckled skin that seems designed to entice gives way to soft, pink nipples that beg to be touched or tasted—and Ben wants to do all of that.

But she isn’t done. 

She maneuvers to slide the gauzy material of her pants over her thighs—and his brain short-circuits because has there actually been _ nothing _underneath this entire time?

“You want this very much,” she hums as she sits back on his cock that already strains against boxer briefs. “For someone who made me work so hard for it.”

“That’s just—_fuck.” _ She rocks her hips forward, and there’s a _ wetness _ between her legs that he can _ feel _even through the fabric. His hands shake a little as he slides them over her hips. “You are—”

“Everything you ever wanted.” She doesn’t say it like a question. She doesn’t have to. They both know it’s true. “It’s my nature.” She leans in, her nipples brushing against his chest as she presses her lips to his jaw. “Being everything you want.”

“I don’t—_ ah— _know what I’m doing.”

He feels the tips of her nails dragging down his sides, finding the band of his briefs to tug lightly. “You don’t have to do anything.” She lifts her hips so that she can slide them down his thighs. “You just have to _ give.” _

His eyes flutter closed when she slides the warmth of her cunt against him—already close to bursting even from just this.

“Rey, I don’t think I can last if you keep doing that.”

“You’ll last,” she says hoarsely. 

“Not if you—”

“Not”—she flattens her tongue across his throat—“human”—he feels her fingers between them, her knuckles brushing over his cock as she dips them inside herself—“remember?”

She brings those same fingers to his lips, quietly urging him to open before she pushes them inside. He’s stunned for a moment, unsure of what’s happening, but then her taste coats his tongue, and it’s like honey and _ heroin _ with the way it courses through him. There’s a fire in his veins that hadn’t existed before, and he feels his cock so hard it’s painful, so hard it’s _ unbearable _—and his mind goes a little fuzzy with it, any rational thought he had left burning up into nothing with the heat of her on his tongue. 

“That’s it,” she coos. “Taste it. It helps.”

He sucks her fingers deeper into his mouth, closing his eyes and groaning as he tilts up his hips in a searching way. 

“Does it feel good, Ben?” Her fingers slide out of his mouth even as he chases after them. “Do you want more?”

He blinks dazedly. “More?”

“Yes.” He slides back until the head of his cock catches at her entrance. “_More.” _

“Please,” he whines softly. “Yes, I”—he hisses through his teeth as she reaches between them to fist his cock—“want more.”

She gives it a squeeze, and he can’t explain it, can’t make _ sense _ of it—but he thinks he grows _ bigger _in her grip. “Consider this the absolution of our contract,” she murmurs. 

And then she begins to sink down onto him. 

He could come, he thinks. He _ wants _ to—but he can’t. He physically _ can’t _ . It’s just there, too soon and overwhelming, but something keeps him just on the precipice. Something, he thinks, that has everything to do with _ her. _

She’s warm and wet and _ so tight _ and when he lets his eyes drift open there is a shadow of her _ wings _as they spread wide to curl around her shoulders. They look smooth and soft and inviting and he reaches out without thinking to let his fingers brush against one. 

Her entire body shudders in response. “_Ah.” _She rolls her neck, rocking forward and bracing her hands on his abdomen. “They’re sensitive.”

He rubs his fingers against the supple expanse, drawing a breathy sound from her as she rolls her hips. “They’re pretty,” he breathes, having sort of wanted to tell her so many times before this. “All of you is.”

Her eyes glow a little deeper, a wide smile at her lips that shows off the points of her teeth, and she’s more than that, he thinks. She’s _ beautiful. _

“I’m getting hungry, Ben,” she rasps, leaning into him. “And you know what I want.”

Her lips find his, that same honeyed taste of her dripping into his mouth as her tongue pushes deep to wind around his—and then she begins to move in earnest. 

That first slide of her cunt against his cock is _ heaven—_or perhaps hell, considering. Every muscle inside her seems to contract in tandem, fisting him with a grip tighter than her hands and squeezing his cock to the point of bursting—but still he finds he can’t come. He can only lie there and ride out the overwhelming pleasure of her bouncing up and down his length, her hands wandering over his skin as she impales herself again and again and _ again. _

There is a sting at his throat, the slice of her nail just skin-deep—but the pain of it fades away with wonder as she brings that same finger to her lips to suck it clean of what he suspects might be his blood. Her mouth finds the wound after, kissing and licking until the sting ebbs away to a blooming warmth—all the while riding his cock at a mind-numbing pace that makes breathing difficult. 

His hands slide up her spine, fingers tracing the joints that sprout there to bloom into darkened wings, and Rey makes a needy cry as the air around them begins to vibrate. He doesn’t catch it at first, the lack of warmth at his back. Doesn’t recognize the way the belongings of his bedroom seem to fall away. 

It isn’t until her back meets the smoothness of his ceiling, until a turn of his head reveals the overhead fan only a few feet away, another look proving to his eyes that she’s beneath him but also _ above—_that he realizes she’s lifted them into the air. 

There isn’t time to be shocked, not with her cunt squeezing his cock or her lips tasting his skin—and she whispers dark words of some language he doesn’t recognize followed with whispered phrases that he _ does—_ones that beg him to _ move_. 

So he does. 

He braces his hands on the ceiling, not caring how they got there or how they remain—driving between her spread legs with everything he has. His body seems spurred by something not born from him, something that tells him how to move and what to do and he knows deep down it is _ her _ that orchestrates this, but it _ feels _ so good he can’t find it in him to complain. His cock _ throbs _with a need for release, an agony at not being able to do so—and he wonders if she could keep them like this forever. If he could spend eternity like this. Fucking her like this. 

In his addled state he thinks it might not be so bad. 

Because her mouth is soft, her body warm and inviting, and he can pretend for a moment that this is more than it is. That tomorrow he won’t be alone again and this won’t seem like some fever-dream that will never leave him. 

He can pretend about a lot of things. 

But as her nails dig into his shoulders, _ just _ at the point of pain, as her knees tighten around his hips, as she whispers words into his ear that finally, _ finally _ allow him to shudder into his release, filling her up with what feels like _ torrents _of himself, even as she trembles with her own pleasure that he’s still shocked to have given her—

He knows none of that is true. 

Because he still finds himself in his bed after. Still finds himself blinking up at the ceiling, his body sated and heavy and at a _ loss _ because it begs to do that again. Begs for _ her. _

He isn’t sure when she leaves him. In the hazy aftermath he thinks he feels a brush of her lips at his temple, but it is only a darkened room that he completely comes to later. It is only him and his too-small bed that feels _ miles wide _with only him in it. 

Ben rolls to his side at some point, not really knowing the time or the date or even the _ year _just then—and he feels regret just as he knew he would. 

There’s a brush of fur that slides under his hand that hangs from the bed, and he scratches behind the ear of the only reminder he has that any of this even happened. 

The only thing that proves it was real.

* * *

Waking the next morning is odd—for a lot of reasons. His body feels like it weighs more than it should, for one. Limbs heavy and eyes more so. It feels like some sort of hangover, but underneath—there is some sense of loss that he can’t quite place. He hears a distant meow in the corner that makes him sigh, but he keeps his eyes shut tight, throwing his arm over his face, not quite ready to face this new day. 

That’s when he notices the warmth beside him. 

He sits up too quickly, jostling the tiny bed and the tinier form settled into it—blinking down at her in shock as she rolls to stretch. 

“Rey?”

“It’s very early for you to be moving about like this. Go back to sleep.”

“What are you doing here?”

She cocks an eyebrow, and he notices several things at once. Firstly, she’s _ naked _ —something he thinks shouldn’t surprise anyone as being the first thing to catch his eye. But also, her horns. Her _ wings. _ They’re both gone. It’s just… her. She looks so… _ normal. _

“Did you want me to leave?”

“No, no, that is—what I meant was—I didn’t—”

“Must you _ always _stammer?” She doesn’t look so annoyed now when she says it. In fact, she looks a little amused.

“I just don’t understand. You said you could return back where you came from. Once we—” He swallows, trying and failing not to let his gaze dip to her breasts. “You know.”

“Oh.” She purses her lips. “About that. I changed my mind.”

“You… changed your mind.”

“Yes.” She waves a hand flippantly. “I’ve decided to stay.”

“You can… do that?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “As long as I have a blood link to this world.”

“A blood link?”

She reaches to touch his throat, and the patch of skin under her fingers tingles with warmth. When he brings his own hand there, he feels a raised brand-like _ something _ that _ definitely _hadn’t been there before—and he’s thinking of her mouth and the dark words she’d murmured there the night prior. 

“I’ve never had a familiar,” she mutters, “but I’m glad to see I could still perform the spell at least.”

“A familiar?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. You just have to feed me. Oh, and do everything I say.”

Ben wonders if this is a dream. “I have to…”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll love it. I’ll reward you with more sex, and I’ll stay and be your…” She wrinkles her nose. “What did you call it?”

“Girlfriend,” he breathes dazedly. 

“Yes. That. It can’t be that hard.”

“What happened to your wings? Your horns?”

“Ah. I slipped away last night to have them glamoured. There’s a lovely old witch back home. She did a nice job, I think. You’ll meet her when we return there.”

“When we… return… there?”

“Well, yes. We’ll have to visit or else I won’t be able to replenish my power. How else will I keep you immortal?”

He shakes his head, at a loss. “Did you say… you said that I’m… immortal?”

She grins, pushing up to wrap her arms around his neck, and all he is able to do is let her—a little lost in her warm body that’s pressed against his. “I can’t have you dying on me. You taste too good.”

“I—So you—We have to _ visit?” _

She presses her lips to the mark at his throat that he’s still too scared to look at, and he can _ feel _ her smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll like Hell. It’s not all bad. Plus there is _ so _much more I can do to you there.”

His eyes flutter despite the absurdity of it all, his hands curling around her hips helplessly. “You really want to stay?”

“I think perhaps there might be something to this lonely business,” she murmurs against his skin. “I think it’s best that I do. If you want me to, that is.”

“I”—his breath catches when her lips mouth at his throat, and he inadvertently pulls her tighter against him”—do. Want you to. If you want to. Yes.”

“That’s good.” Another soft kiss at his skin before her lips curl. “And Ben?”

“Yes?”

He feels her hand sliding up his spine, moving over his shoulders to grip there. “I’m hungry.”

Ben thinks to himself that for as long as he lives (and he has no idea now how long _ that _will be), he will never mess with old magic ever again. 

Not, he thinks, as she slides down his body, his skin vibrating with a strange elation that he isn’t even sure makes sense, that he would even need to. 

He thinks he got everything he wished for the first time.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for indulging me with this silly little story! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kylotrashforever)!  
I made a [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/KTF_Reylo), come follow me!


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